Safe and Sound
by K8e773
Summary: In the aftermath of the battle of Hogwarts, Ron Weasley can't cope with the grief and loss. He only has one desire to keep Hermione Granger safe, at all costs. A story of loss, healing and love (RW/HG, eventually some HP/GW). Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione were standing in a circle around Fred's lifeless body. It was over, the war was over and Voldemort was gone. Ron felt numb, he felt like his chest had been ripped open as he stared down at his dead brother. Hermione was crying silently next to him, tears streaming down her face. Ron could feel her shivering violently. Suddenly he couldn't stand here in the Great Hall any longer.

Ron looked up for the first time in hours and caught his mother's attention across the circle of his family members. Her face was white and her eyes were glassy. Seeing her like this ripped the hole in his chest a little larger, the pain was unbearable. When their eyes met, Ron let his gaze flash down to Hermione before returning to meet his mother's eyes. Ron tried to convey all of his emotions through one look. His mother gave a small nod, so small he almost missed it, then she looked back down at her dead son.

Ron was satisfied that nod meant his mother's permission. He put his arm around Hermione and steered her out of the great hall, ignoring Harry's questioning gaze. No one else noticed them leave.

Hermione drifted along as Ron lead the way. She didn't know where they were going and she didn't care. As she had been standing with the Weasleys mourning the loss of Fred she had wished she were anywhere but there. She had always felt like the Weasleys were a second family to her, but tonight she felt like she didn't belong, as if she were invading on their grief.

She felt Ron come to a stop. Hermione looks around confused, they were in the fifth floor corridor. There was debris everywhere and chunks of the wall were missing. The corridor was eerily silent. Hermione looked up at Ron for an explanation.

Ron muttered, "Pine fresh" and the door to the prefects' bathroom swung open. Ron was thankful the password hadn't changed in their absence. Hermione followed him inside as he began to draw a bath. As the tub filled with steaming hot water and bubbles, Ron pulled Hermione's beaded bag from his trouser pocket. It felt like years ago when Hermione asked him to hold it.

He plunged his arm deep within the enchanted bag and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. Next to the rapidly filling tub he placed Hermione's pajamas, dressing gown and slippers in a neatly folded pile. From the shelves at the edge of the room he grabbed a fluffy white towel and wash cloth which he lined up next to her clean clothes.

Hermione was stunned into silence. Ron turned off the spigots and looked up at her with an expression that shattered Hermione's heart into a million pieces. He looked at her as if taking care of her were the only thing he needed in the world right now. Ron's eyes were imploring if he had done well, searching her expression for a reaction. Hermione couldn't help herself, tears started falling again with a vengeance.

Ron looked at Hermione. She had several cuts and scrapes that were bleeding, her hair was singed, and she was covered with dirt and grime, but she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Ron crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly as she cried. Once the sobs subsided Ron said, "I'll be just outside, ok? I won't go anywhere I promise," and punctuated his promise with a kiss on top of her head.

As he turned to leave, Hermione finally found her voice. "Please don't go," she hiccoughed as she wiped the tears from he face.

Ron turned to protest, but closed his mouth when he noticed how small she looked. She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself and she was still shivering. Ron nodded, "I'll just turn around while you get in."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Her whole life she had fought against the stereotype of the damsel in distress. Proving time and time again that she didn't need Ron or Harry or any other man to rescue her, in fact she had even rescued them a few times. Tonight was different, she felt completely lost and vulnerable. For the first time since she was a little girl, she wanted-no needed- someone to take care of her. She especially, didn't want to be alone.

Once Ron turned his back she quickly took of her clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. They were completely ruined. She didn't even think magic could restore them, not that she'd ever want to wear them again. She stood naked only a few feet away from Ron, it gave her a strange twisting feeling in her stomach. Her mind flashed briefly to the kiss they had shared only hours before, but it might as well have been a lifetime ago.

She lowered herself into the hot water. She hadn't realized how cold she had been her whole body screamed in protest as the water touched her. It was like coming inside after an afternoon out in the snow and running your hands under warm water.

Once Hermione was sure the thick layer of foam floating on top of the water was covering her, she said "Ok, you can turn around now."

Ron turned and walked to the edge of the bath and sat cross-legged beside her. She was covered up to her collarbone with bubbles. She was looking at him with such an intensity that a shiver went down his spine.

Ron watched in silence as she pulled the elastic from her hair and let her messy curls fan out behind her, floating in the water. He watched her scrub her face and arms, occasionally she would wince when she rubbed over a tender spot. She ducked under water to wet her hair before applying shampoo from one of the pumps on the side of the tub.

This was the stuff of Ron Weasley's fantasies and on any other day he wouldn't be able to control himself if Hermione were bathing in front of him. But, today his body burned with one singular desire, keep Hermione Granger safe, at all costs. So, he sat guard at the edge of her bath like a centurion soldier, hand gripping his wand tightly, ears pricked for the slightest sound. All other desires and emotions had been pushed down and locked away.

"I'm ready to get out now," Hermione said quietly. Without a word Ron rose and turned away from her. Hermione got out of the bath and began to dry herself and realized the towel was coming away red. Some of her deeper cuts were still bleeding a bit. She wrapped the towel tightly around herself and began to examine her wounds for the first time. She couldn't help but gasp when she noticed a particularly nasty cut on her leg that was bleeding and had a slight greenish tinge.

At the sound of her gasp Ron turned, wand at the ready. He saw her injury and grabbed for the beaded bag. "Accio dittany," he said pointing his wand at the bag. The small vial flew into his hand. He began to apply it to Hermione's wounds, watching them knit back together.

Only when Ron was satisfied in his healing did he notice how little Hermione was wearing. The towel that was wrapped around her stopped just below her bottom leaving what seemed like miles of damp, glistening legs exposed. He gulped and hastily turned around. Chastising himself for forgetting, even just for a second, everything that had happened.

Hermione has seen the flash of longing in his eyes and it had made her heart flutter, but he had turned away so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it. She quickly finished drying herself and put on her pajamas.

"Ready" Hermione said.

Ron turned again. Her face was pink and clean from all the scrubbing and her curls hung damp around her face. She was wrapped tightly in her sensible, navy blue dressing gown. Ron was pleased to see the shivering had stopped.

"Are you going to..." Hermione asked indicating the now empty tub.

Ron shook his head, "No, I'll just grab a quick shower in the dormitory once you're all settled in."

Hermione realized now that Ron was filthy and he had piece of once white cloth wrapped around his upper arm, now it was dark red and sticky with blood. Hermione moved to touch it but he jerked it away from her.

" 'S fine," he said wrapping his uninjured arm around her waist leading her out of the bathroom.

The two began the long trek towards Gryffindor Tower. It was slow going because they had work their way around and over rubble. Several times they even had to reroute entirely as an entire corridor was blocked off. Both tried not to look too hard, or too long at the destruction around them.

When they got to the portrait, the fat lady was gone. Ron reached out and grabbed the edge of the frame and pulled, he was shocked to find that the painting swung easily opened revealing the Gryffindor common room.

The common room was empty, but neither of them had wanted to talk to anyone any way. Ron guided Hermione towards the girls dormitory. He figured Harry, Neville and the others would eventually return to the boys dorm if they hadn't already. Ron vaguely remembered seeing Lavender at some point in the Great Hall, but he had a hard time believing she would return to the girls dormitory alone.

Ron was pleased to see that the charm on the stairs was no longer trying to keep him out. Maybe McGonagall had turned of the charm so people would have somewhere to sleep, or maybe it was just the old magic of the castle knowing that he and Hermione needed to be together that night.

Once inside, Hermione drifted towards her old bed out of habit and sat down on the edge. There was no truck at the bottom and looked as if it had remained unused in her absence. She watched as Ron locked the door with a wave of his wand and began to walk around putting their typical protection charms around the room.

When Ron was satisfied that the room was well protected he turned to Hermione, "I'm going to take a quick shower, I'll be right back. Stay put ok?"

Usually Hermione would have protested being told what to do, but she heard the panic rising in Ron's voice. She nodded and scooted further back onto the bed.

Once in the bathroom attached to the dormitory, Ron unwrapped the bandage from his arm. Blood began to pour out of his wound and drip onto the floor. He suspected that whoever had wrapped his arm during the battle had enchanted the bandage to stop the blood flow. He pulled the dittany out of his trouser pocket and uncorked it with his mouth. He grimaced as he poured it into his arm and watched the cut knit back together.

He took off his clothes and turned on the shower. The hot water felt magnificent on his aching body. He watched as a gruesome mixture of blood and dirt ran of his body and swirled down the drain. He felt the emotions of the day rise up and tears pricked the back of his eyes. He forced the emotions back down reminding himself, he couldn't become distracted from taking care of Hermione. He'd already been apart from her for too long. He quickly washed himself and got out of the shower.

He dried himself and changed into pajamas before heading back into the dormitory.

Ron realized for the first time how dark the dormitory was. He heard sniffling coming from Hermione's bed, so he followed the noise to her.

Hermione was wiping her tears trying to regain composure when Ron sat on the edge of her bed. He pointed his wand at the candle on her bedside and it lit.

"Are you ok?" Ron asked, concern etched on his face. Hermione nodded, even though that was a lie.

Ron pulled back the covered and Hermione scooted under them. She pulled Ron with her tucking the blankets around both of them. The surprised look on Ron's face showed that this had not been part of the plan. He had been planning on sleeping with her. Well he was out of his mind if he thought he could sleep anywhere else tonight, Hermione thought.

After the initial shock of being in bed with Hermione Granger wore off, he breathed out a contented sigh. He pulled her close to him, her head landed on his chest. He breathed in the scent of her hair and thought it was the most intoxicating smell in the world.

" 'Mione," he murmured as he pulled her closer, burrowing his nose further into her messy curls. He felt a pang of guilt, for being alive, for being in bed with Hermione, for being absurdly happy in the midst of all this destruction.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat when she hear Ron's sweet term of endearment. Heat flooded her body as he pulled her closer. For the first time in a very long time she felt safe. With that thought in her head she let exhaustion take over her body.

**AN: I hoped you liked the first chapter. I plan on continuing, I'm not really sure how long it will go. Thanks for reading, please review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited the first chapter. **

Everything was chaotic in the Entrance Hall. People were dueling all around her, spells flying everywhere. Hermione felt one whoosh past her head. She was looking around frantically for Ron, she couldn't find him. She was running and dodging spells. The Hall was a cacophony of sounds, chunks of castle walls falling to the ground, screams, and most horrifying of all, laughter. Through the din she heard him yelling her name.

She spun towards the sound and ran towards him. He wrapped her in his arms. Her fingers tangled themselves through his wonderful, red hair. Their lips crashed together, Hermione and Ron were finally kissing, and properly kissing too, hot and passionate.

Suddenly, there was a flash of green light and Ron went limp in her arms, his lips breaking away from hers. Hermione couldn't hold his dead weight and he crumpled to the floor. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Hermione looked down at his lifeless body, he was staring up at her, his blue eyes wide open. Hermione opened her mouth and screamed but it didn't drown out the unmistakable high-pitched laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange echoing in the background.

Ron was awoken abruptly from his own nightmares by a scream echoing through the dormitory. He sat up, wand drawn before realizing it was Hermione screaming. She was thrashing violently next to him in the bed, blankets tangled around her legs. Ron shook her gently saying, "Hermione, Hermione, wake up, it was only a dream, wake up."

Hermione's eyes flew open, she couldn't breathe. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She was looking up into Ron's blue eyes, they were full of concern. She felt the air whoosh painfully back into her lungs. She sat up and pulled him into an embrace.

She began sobbing into his shoulder. "Ron, thank God you're ok, thank God you're alive," she managed to gasp between sobs.

Ron held her tightly and whispered, "Shh, Hermione, it was only a bad dream, it's ok" repeatedly as he stroked her hair.

Sobs wracked Hermione's body. She couldn't forget Ron's lifeless eyes staring up at her, nor Bellatrix's maniacal laugh. She was shaking again and she couldn't stop. The realization of how close she came to losing everyone she loved came crashing down on her.

Ron continued his attempts to comfort Hermione, pulling away from her just enough to pull the blanket around her shoulders in a vain attempt to stop her shivering.

Eventually the sobs subsided, Ron pulled back to look at her. Her face was red and wet, her hair was plastered to her face with tears. Ron carefully pushed her hair off of her face and tucked it behind her ears. Then he pulled his pajama sleeve down over his hand and used it to gently dry her cheeks and nose not really caring at the moment if he got snot all over his sleeve.

Hermione tried to smile at him but her teeth were chattering too violently and she couldn't stop them. Her body was shaking so violently Ron was worried she was having a fit or something. He readjusted the blanket and ran his hands quickly up and down her arms attempting trying to warm her up.

"Hermione, what did you dream about? Do you want to talk about it?" Ron asked gently, when he felt she had calmed down enough to talk.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded, she took a deep breath in and let it slowly whoosh out. "It was the battle...and...and...you were kissing me...and." She couldn't finish the sentence. New tears started rolling down her face.

Ron's heart clenched, was kissing him really that bad?

Hermione saw the hurt look in his eyes and realized what he must be thinking. "No! Ron! No...you...you were killed, right in my arms...it...it was all my fault, I...I...distracted you and you died," she managed to choke out.

Ron chastised himself for being so bloody selfish. What did it matter what she thought of his kissing when she was sitting right across from him crying. "I'm such a stupid git," he thought bitterly as he bundled Hermione up in his arms again.

"It's ok, 'Mione, I'm ok, I'm alive."

Her stomach flip flopped, he had shortened her name again. No one had ever done that, not even her parents. Well, unless you counted Grawp, which she certainly didn't.

Ron thought Hermione was looking at him as though she had just realized he weren't dead after all. Her cheeks were still red from crying, her hair was a mess as if she'd been out in the wind and her eyes were wild and shining. He wanted to kiss her, Merlin did he want to kiss her, but he knew now wasn't the time. He wasn't sure if it would ever be the time ever again, so he settled for leaning forward and kissing her gently on the forehead.

Ron's lips were burning on Hermione's forehead even after he pulled away. She loved being this close to him. They had never been this close before. There was always space in between them even when they were doing something as innocent as sitting next to each other on the sofa. If their knees or hands would accidentally knock together they would jump back as if they had been electrocuted. She had wanted this for so long and now that it was happening, it felt bitter sweet.

"Fancy a cuppa?" Ron asked. Hermione nodded looking a bit perplexed. Where was Ron planning on getting tea at this time of night, when had Ron ever made tea before?

Ron pointed his wand at Hermione's beaded bag again and two mugs and two tea bags flew out. He walked to the bathroom and filled the mugs with water, pointing his wand at them to make them boil. He carried to two steaming mugs of tea back to bed. Hermione was sitting cross legged with the scarlet blanked wrapped around herself. She had stopped crying except for the occasional sniffle.

Ron handed her one of the mugs and kept the other for himself. He sat down facing her. He watched her blow on her tea to cool it. He knew tea didn't really fix anything, but it's what his mum had always done when he or any of his siblings had been upset. He sighed, there wasn't enough tea in the world to make this better. He thought of Fred laying cold and alone down in the Great Hall. Tears threatened as he took a sip of tea.

Hermione noticed his eyes become watery. "Are you alright?" She asked concerned.

Ron nodded. " 'S just a bit hot s'all," Ron mumbled indicating the tea.

Hermione knew it was a lie but didn't push it. Ron had never been the kind of guy to wear his emotions on his sleeve. She supposed she knew that better than anyone. He would bottle it all up until he erupted. It had happened to them so many times she couldn't even count.

They sat in silence drinking their tea. When Ron had finished his he sat the empty mug on the bedside table. He watched as Hermione finished hers. She was staring off into the darkness.

When she placed her empty mug next to Ron's on the table, she said, "I don't want to go back to sleep. I don't want anymore nightmares." Her voice sounded thin and strained as if she were fighting off tears.

"That's ok, I don't feel much like sleeping either, we can just sit here and talk...or not. Whatever you want," Ron replied.

Hermione nodded.

Ron propped the pillows up against the headboard. Hermione scooted into place and began to unwind the blanket from herself. Ron shook his head and pulled the blanket back over her shoulders. Then he grabbed a matching scarlet blanked from a neighboring bed, situated himself next to Hermione and pulled it over their legs.

Hermione let her head fall onto Ron's shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her hugged her closer. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until memories of the battle invaded Hermione's thoughts. She needed something to distract her.

"That first day, on the Hogwarts express, did you ever think we'd end up here?" She asked. Ron could tell by her inflection that she meant together in bed, rather than surviving a battle.

"Yes" Ron said before he even knew what he was saying, the words had just slipped out. Hermione looked up at him shocked. Ron blushed scarlet.

"I thought you thought I was a know it all," Hermione countered.

"To be fair I still think you're a know it all," Ron joked. Hermione elbowed him playfully, secretly pleased by the hint of a smile on his otherwise serious face.

"You were always teasing me." Why was she pushing this, tonight of all nights Hermione wondered. Talking about their relationship was the last thing Ron needed after losing his brother.

The smile that had briefly tugged at the corners of his mouth was gone. Hermione felt guilty for putting a damper on their light conversation. She opened her mouth to say never mind. But Ron began to say something.

"Yea, cause I was eleven and it liked you Hermione. That's what eleven year old boys do, they tease girls they like. You were smart, confident, really pretty and most importantly you were interested in me, you talked to me before Harry and after you told him about all those books he was in, you weren't in awe of him like everyone else and before you left...well, you looked back at me and I thought..." Ron trailed off rubbing the back of his neck again. What had he thought? That somehow that know-it-all with the bushy hair would fall for the kid in hand-me-down clothes and lame attempts at magic.

Hermione was gobsmacked. Ron had never said any of this before. He wasn't one to leave himself vulnerable like that. He liked her even back then.

"You were right," Hermione said quietly, "I liked you, even on that first day, you were funny."

Ron's heart swelled. This was the most magnificent news he'd ever heard. He'd been so awful to her so many times since that day on the train. Yet here she was, after all these years, she was his best friend and he hoped maybe something more. He had promised himself after he left them last fall that if he got this last chance with her, he would never hurt her or let anyone else hurt her ever again. He had failed the last part so many times since then, but tonight he had redoubled his resolve.

He was so quiet, Hermione wondered if she had said the wrong thing. Maybe he didn't feel that way about her any more, but if he didn't why did he kiss her back. Maybe he didn't kiss her back, she panicked, maybe he was just being polite. Her mind was circling around and around; did he like her did he not? She was too afraid to ask him, because she was too afraid the answer would tear her into a million pieces.

Ron swallowed the urge to tell her how much he cared for her, instead he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. This gesture seemed so small. He really wanted to kiss her like their lives had nearly ended and they were alive. He wanted to show her in all this misery there could be something beautiful. The problem was he wasn't sure if that was true.

Hermione loved when he kissed her. She found his hand and laced her fingers through his.

They held each other in silence until the sun came up. Neither of them fell back to sleep, but the night felt like a dream. Their admissions were so surreal in the cold light of day both would swear that conversation had never happened and neither of them would bring it up

Eventually they couldn't avoid reality anymore. Ron got out of bed first, everything ached and he had never been so tired in his whole life. He grabbed clothes out of Hermione's bag and went to the bathroom to change. Hermione watched him go, trying to work up the courage to say anything wondering if she would never have another chance.

When Ron emerged from the bathroom he was wearing jeans and a t shirt. His hair was messy and his normally pale skin looked almost translucent except for the dark purple circles etched under his eyes. His eyes looked unfocused and his mouth was set in a grim line. Hermione had the urge to hold him and try to kiss away all the pain, but she didn't. Without saying anything he began to take down the protection enchantments. Hermione went to change.

When she came back Ron was standing by the door waiting for her. The room had been tidied and all of their things were back in the beaded bag. Ron handed Hermione the bag and she stuffed her pajamas inside.

As they left the room Hermione looked back at the dormitory wondering if she'd ever see it again. The common room had a breakfast spread on one of the tables and a fire roaring in the fireplace. Mr. Weasley had his arms around Mrs. Weasley, who had her head cradled in her hands. George was standing off to the side looking positively spectral. No one looked up or acknowledged the two entering.

"Go sit down, I'll bring you some breakfast." Ron said quietly. Hermione was not really hungry but she nodded and found two chairs next to each other some distance away from the rest of the Weasleys.

Ron returned with a paper cup of tea and a plate of toast. He handed them both to Hermione and sat in the chair next to her.

"You don't want anything?" Hermione asked.

" 'M not hungry," Ron muttered.

Hermione nibbled at the toast to be polite but it tasted like sawdust. Over the next hour the remaining Weaslys as well as Fleur, Harry, Luna, Neville, Dean, and Seamus tricked down from various common rooms. No one said anything, the silence was only broken by Mrs. Weasley's sobs. A few people picked at the breakfast spread but no one ate much. Ron sat protectively close to Hermione, but he never touched her. His hand clutched his wand at all times.

After everyone had finished breakfast, Mr. Weasley stood and said with a forced smile, "Well Weasleys back to The Burrow, Harry and Hermione you too of course." He held out a small pouch of floo powder. Mrs. Weasley took the first pinch and disappeared into a swirl of green flames.

Hermione was thankful she had been included in the group going to The Burrow, she didn't know where she would have gone otherwise.

Ron was having an internal debate whether it was safer to send Hermione first or have her follow him. Ron decided on going first, in case The Burrow was under attack. He looked behind him and Bill, Charlie and Harry were all still waiting. He was confident if anything happened after he left, they would keep her safe.

Percy was in front of him taking a pinch of floo powder from his father. Ron leaned down and whispered into Hermione's ear, "I'm going to go first, follow me directly. Don't let anyone else go before you, ok?"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest this precaution, but Ron looked at her so desperately and whispered, "please Hermione." Hermione nodded and Ron took the floo powder from his dad and was soon spinning towards The Burrow. Hermione wondered where this new protective streak from Ron had come from.

Once in the living room Ron stared intently at the fireplace for what seemed like hours.

Finally Hermione tumbled forward into the living room. Ron rushed forward and caught her before she stumbled to the floor. Hermione's hands were on his chest and Ron's arms were wrapped around her. She had a smudge of soot on her nose.

Ron straightened her up and stepped away from her. He cleared his throat loudly. "Alright Hermione?" He asked

Hermione's voice was lost, so she just nodded. Why did he let go so quickly? Why was he acting so embarrassed? She wanted more than anything for his arms to be around her again, but he clearly didn't want that.

Harry staggered into the living room next followed by Fleur, Bill and finally Mr. Weasley. "George and Charlie are staying behind to make some...erm...arrangements" said Mr. Weasley.

Fred's name was left unspoken but it lingered in the air around them like some noxious gas.

Ginny sniffled and screwed up her face before storming upstairs. She stomped as if the stairs were personally responsible for Fred's death. Harry looked after her helplessly and he moved to follow her. Percy caught his eye and gave him a quick deterring shake of the head. Harry plopped loudly into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

Percy was right though, Ron thought. Ginny had always masked sadness with anger and going upstairs to comfort her would only serve to make it worse.

Mrs. Weasley had gone to the kitchen to make tea for everyone. Ron rushed to her side, "No mum, I can do it, why don't you go sit." Ron took the tea kettle from her hands and began filling it with water.

Mrs. Weasley have a half-hearted smile and sat on the sofa between Percy and Mr. Weasley grasping each of their hands.

Hermione watched in awe as Ron prepared the tea. She had been coming to The Burrow for years and she had never once seen Ron offer to make tea. Ron carried the tea tray into the living room and made a mug for his mother. After Mrs. Weasley had a mug cradled in her hands, Ron made a second mug for Hermione. Everyone else helped themselves.

Once everyone else had a mug, Ron made one for himself and sat on the arm of Hermione's chair. Hermione noticed he was careful to keep a few inches between his leg and her arm. Their safety buffer. She knew if she reached out to touch him he would recoil as if she's shocked him. After last night she had hoped things would be different, she had hoped he would hold her hand or put an arm around her. Perhaps that was naive, she thought bitterly. People don't just change like that, but Ron surely seemed to have changed.

Everyone sat in silence, there didn't seem to be anything to say. No one had ever heard The Burrow this quiet before. Eventually Ginny came back downstairs with puffy red eyes. She poured herself a mug of lukewarm tea and sat on the floor leaning her head against her mothers knees like she had so many times when she was younger. Molly let go of her husbands hand and stroked Ginny's shiny red hair.

They passed the afternoon much the same way. Occasionally someone would clear their throat to say something, but no one ever followed through. Several times a different member of the Weasley family would leave the room and return some time later with puffy red eyes. Ron never left his protective position at Hermione's side.

As the sun began to sink low in the sky, Mrs. Weasley stood abruptly and said, "Well I best get dinner started," in a forced cheery voice. "Ginny dear, why don't you help me in the kitchen."

Ron made to follow them, but he was quickly forced out of the kitchen.

Dinner was a somber affair, made worse by the return of George and Charlie. "Everything is sorted, the funeral will be the day after tomorrow," Charlie announced grimly.

George looked awful. Only his missing ear convinced everyone he wasn't actually Fred's ghost floating around. He didn't say anything and he didn't join them for dinner. He just drifted upstairs to his bedroom.

Ron didn't taste his dinner. Every time he swallowed he felt like his stomach would reject it. He only ate to make his mum happy. Everyone ate just enough to make a show of it, pushing away half empty plates that hadn't been very full to begin with.

Mrs. Weasley began clearing the table. Ron hurried to the sink and began doing dishes. Hermione moved to follow him but he shook his head at her. Hermione felt utterly rejected as she followed the rest of the family into the living room.

Once Ron and his mother were alone in the kitchen, Ron screws up his courage to ask what he's wanted to ask all day. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat,"Erm, mum?"

Mrs. Weasley jumps and looks at Ron surprised. No one had said anything all day and the sound of his voice sounded foreign to both of them.

"What is it dear?" She says once she regains composure.

"I need to ask you something," Ron starts before he can chicken out. "I was wondering if ...if Hermione could stay in my room. It's not like that," Ron adds hastily when he sees his mother's raised eyebrow. "I just want to keep an eye on her, make sure she's ok. She's been having nightmares...and...and I guess I need her too."

Mrs. Weasleys eyes brim with tears.

"And I want you to know...that my intentions are to...what I mean to say is I never want to...I've hurt enough for ten lifetimes and...well I plan on being with her forever. If she'll have me," Ron finished lamely running a hand through his hair and down his neck. His heart was lodged in his throat and beating wildly.

Mrs. Weasley gave a watery smile, the first real smile since before the battle. She pulled Ron into a hug. "Ron, your father and I are so proud of the man you've become and everything you've done. I know you feel like you're always in second place first to your brothers and then to your best friend, but Ronald Weasley you have a lot to offer this world and to that girl out there," she said nodding towards the living room. "Don't let it go to waste," she finished with a kiss on the forehead.

Ron felt like he was on the verge of tears, this blessing from his mother meant more to him than anything, except, well, her. His eyes flashed to the living room where he could see her talking in low whispers with Harry. She looked lovely in the dim candlelight in the living room.

Molly returned to the living room, "Well, I'm going to turn in." She announced and she went around and kissed all of her children goodnight. "Harry dear, Percy is going to be returning to his flat for the night so you can take his room," she said before giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Harry found this quite odd, Percy hadn't slept in his room for a long time, but Harry had always slept in Ron's room on a cot. He was about to say he didn't mind the cot but Mrs. Weasley had already moved on.

She pulled Hermione into a tight hug, when she pulled back Mrs. Weasley had a strange teary look in her eyes. She gave Hermione a quick peck on the cheek and went upstairs. Mr. Weasley followed.

Soon after, Percy, Bill, and Fleur all left for their respective homes promising to return in time for breakfast. Charlie went upstairs to his room shortly after them. Leaving Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron alone in the living room.

"Weird about me staying in Percy's room, eh mate?" Harry asked Ron. Ron just shrugged, not divulging how pleased he was to have his room alone with Hermione.

Ginny looked up shyly and asked, "Um, Harry, would you care to go for a walk with me"

"Yea sure Ginny," Harry replied sounding someway skeptical.

Ron shot Harry a warning look as he got up to spend quality time alone with his baby sister. Harry gave him a reassuring look that did not reassure Ron at all.

"Let's go to bed," Ron said grabbing Hermione's hand. His touch felt electric, she had been craving it all day. They started up the stairs. Hermione stopped at Ginny's door and turned to say goodnight. She wanted to draw out their goodbyes as long as possible, wanting to spend a few more minutes with Ron.

"Um actually, I was hoping you'd sleep in my room, if you want that is," Ron said quickly looking down at his trainers. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes. "I asked my mum, and she said it's ok."

"Yea" Hermione breathed. Not believing it. Not believing she would get to spent another night curled up in Ron's arms.

Ron tugged Hermione's hand and they continued up the stairs. From Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room they could hear crying but all the other rooms were silent. Finally they reached Ron's attic room, it looked exactly the same as it had when they left last summer.

Ron rummaged through the beaded bag and handed Hermione her pajamas. Hermione went downstairs to the bathroom to change. It took all of Ron's will power not to follow, just to make sure she was ok. He changed quickly into his own pajamas. Hermione returned in a light blue top and matching pinstripe bottoms.

Hermione hesitantly crawled into Ron's bed. It felt strange pulling his orange Cannons quilt over her legs. Not that she hadn't thought about it a million times before, it just felt strange now that it was actually happening. Ron began putting protection charms around the room.

"You know Ron, I don't think that's really necessary," Hermione said softly, wanting him to just come to bed.

"Yes, it is Hermione. We have no idea how many bloody Death Eaters there are out there looking for us," Ron said more sharply than he meant. His face softened when he saw the hurt look in Hermione's eyes, "I'm done anyway," he said crawling into bed with her. It was only just past 8 o'clock and neither of them felt much like sleeping, although their bodies were screaming with exhaustion.

She looked so sad, Ron thought. He wanted to kiss her so hard she forgot all of the awful things in the world. More importantly, Ron wanted that for himself, he wanted to lose himself in her. Ron fought the urge to kiss her, pulling her into a tight hug instead he breathed in the sweet smell of her hair.

Hermione's ear was pressed against his chest, she could hear his heart beating erratically. She was so confused, last night they had been so wonderfully close, and today he had hardly left her side, but had never touched her. There had always been that careful buffer between them. Now, here he was holding her tightly again. What exactly was he playing at? It had been exactly 24 hours since their last kiss, and he hadn't tried to kiss her again.

"Why am I here, Ron, and not in Ginny's room?" Hermione asked pulling away from him, regretfully disentangling their limbs.

"Well, I suppose because I need to make sure you're safe," Ron replies sheepishly.

For some reason this makes anger flare up in Hermione's stomach. She's angry because Ron just refuses to admit he has feelings for her, or worse that he doesn't have feelings for her and he's just stringing her along. And now he's putting on this bloody White Knight charade for her. But rather than saying any of that she snaps, "I don't need to be taken care of Ronald," despite the fact that that's exactly what she needs.

Ron replies just as harshly, "Yes you do Hermione! What if I lost you? I've come so close so many times and to lose you now...it would just kill me." Angry tears burned Ron's eyes but he blinked them away.

Hermione's face shifted from anger to shock.

Ron chastised himself for yelling at her and for putting all of that out there when he wasn't sure if that was even what she wanted.

Hermione scooted a little closer to him looking contrite. "I...I didn't know," Hermione stuttered lamely.

Ron pulled her into his lap. "Well now you do," Ron said gruffly.

Hermione searched for a lighter topic, "I never thought, I'd be in your bed like this. I've thought about it so many times..." Hermione saw Ron's eyes go dark, maybe that wasn't as light a topic as she thought it was.

Ron felt like an animal was clawing at his chest. Here was the most beautiful girl in the world telling him she had thought about being in bed with him. Had she thought about more than sleeping? He felt a primal urge to kiss her and never stop. To pull off that blue top that clung to her curves in all the right places. He felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, it wasn't helping that Hermione was squirming on his lap like that, looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes.

Before Hermione knew what was happening she was off of Ron's lap and thrown onto the bed. One of Ron's hands placed on either side of her head, his knees holding her thighs together. Hermione recognized the look in his eyes now, it was desire, desire for her. Hermione's stomach felt like it were on fire. She wanted to reach up and pull Ron down on top of her and feel the lengths of their bodies pressed together. The eye contact was maddening, she wanted him now more than she'd ever wanted anything. His forehead was pressed against hers. She wanted to reach up and kiss him, their lips were so close.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, Hermione's forehead still pressed against his. Now wasn't the time. He felt a pang of guilt for his brother, for his family, for taking advantage of the situation, and most importantly for letting his guard down. It took all of his will power to pull back and kiss her forehead.

Hermione was shocked when he rolled over onto the bed next to her. She rolled over to face him, searching his expression for some explanation.

Ron pulled the blankets over them and took Hermione's hand in his. He looked into her dark brown eyes feeling like he could drown in their depths. What he really wanted to say was, I love you Hermione Granger, but instead he said, "Now isn't the right time." He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed the fingers that were intertwined with his own.

Hermione wanted to roll onto her stomach and scream into the pillow in frustration and excitement. Instead she cuddled closer to Ron, kissing his chest right where his heart was.

**AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave reviews. Criticism and ideas are always welcome. Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

It had been hours since Ron and Hermione had gone to bed, but neither of them had fallen asleep. Hermione kept tossing and turning, every time she closed her eyes all she could see were green flashes and Ron's vacant eyes. Ron eventually gave up on trying to hold her still.

Suddenly there was a loud crackling sound outside. Ron shot out of bed and ran to the window, wand clutched in his hand. Hermione was close behind him. The back field was on fire, and not just any fire, words. Hermione gasped when she read what the flaming message said.

YOU WILL PAY BLOOD TRAITORS.

Ron was about to tell Hermione to stay put, but before he even opened his mouth she said, "Don't even think about telling me to wait here."

"Fine but stay close," Ron said knowing arguing about it would just waste time, and not change the outcome. He grabbed her hand and turned on the spot. They felt the familiar squeeze of disapperating before landing in the middle of the lawn. Both of them immediately started coughing from the thick, black smoke.

After a quick search showed that whoever had started the fire was long gone, Ron began to shoot water from his wand in an attempt to extinguish the fire. The fire was too big and Ron's feeble attempt did nothing and he began to panic as the flames began to spread.

Luckily, he hadn't let Hermione stay inside because she levitated water from the nearby pond in a massive title wave over the fire successfully extinguishing it before it spread any further.

"Bloody brilliant, you are Hermione" Ron said in awe as he watched her impressive spellmanship. Hermione blushed at his compliment, thankful without the fire it was far too dark to see.

As Ron and Hermione were putting out the fire, everyone else in the house had spilled out onto the lawn, wands at the ready. When Mrs. Weasley saw the charred words she began to sob into her husband's. Everyone else looked positively green.

"With the protection charms, I don't think they could get any closer," Ron told his dad.

Arthur nodded, "Everyone back inside. I'll send an owl to Kingsley straight away." He ushered everyone back inside the house.

"Back upstairs, all of you," Mrs. Weasley ordered shakily once she had regained some of her composure. Mr. Weasley was putting extra protection charms on all of the windows and doors.

When they hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, Mrs. Weasley gave them a glare that urged them on their way. They didn't dare stop on the landing to talk, the last thing they wanted to do was incur the wrath of . So, the group trudged up the stairs shrinking with each passing landing until it was just Ron and Hermione taking the last set of stairs to the attic.

Once inside the attic room, Ron sat heavily on his bed. "Who do you reckon it was?" He asked, looking out the window at the burnt field.

"Some Death Eater I suppose" Hermione answered sitting next to him.

"Bloody coward, if he wanted us to pay so bad why didn't he just come and fight," Ron said anger growing in his voice.

"Well for one, The Burrow is surrounded by protective enchantments. Besides do you really want another fight right now?" Hermione asked in an all too familiar bossy tone.

"Yes Hermione, I do. I want them to pay, to pay for what they did to my family" Ron looked so angry. It reminded Hermione distinctly of Ron under the influence of the locket, right before he left.

Hermione was afraid. The last time Ron was like this he left. Hermione didn't know if she could take him leaving again. Especially not now. Things may be complicated and confusing, but at least now it felt like their relationship held the promise of being more than friends. Hermione didn't know if she could take that promise being ripped away from her.

"Ron..." Hermione said quietly, pausing until Ron turned towards her. His angry eyes softened as they met hers. "Promise you'll never leave again," she finished.

Ron looked taken aback, he had expected some sort of scolding or know-it-all retort. Instead he got this new vulnerable, insecure side to Hermione. He felt a familiar pang of guilt, it was his fault. Hermione wouldn't need to be insecure if he hadn't been jerking her around for so long, if he hadn't left last fall.

Ron took her hands in his, "Hermione Granger, never again, well unless you want me to."

Hermione smiled and shook her head, "Never."

"Never say never Granger, you know how big of a prat I can be. You might get sick of me," Ron teased reveling in her smile.

Hermione shrugged, "I've made it seven years that include teasing me and getting me attacked by a mountain troll, hating me for allegedly getting your rat killed, treating me as a last resort for a dance, dating another girl and rubbing it in my face, and let's not even mention the locket. I think I can handle anything you throw at me."

Hermione had meant it to be a joke, but Ron only looked guiltier than ever. "Hermione, I'm so sorry for all of that and the million other rows we've had. I guess I'm a bigger prat than I ever thought."

"Ron, don't worry about it. I was just as horrible." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione cut him off, "Lets chalk it up to growing pains, yea?"

Ron shrugged. Hermione sensed that, despite what she said, he still took all the blame and guilt on himself.

Hermione wanted to reassure him, to somehow move past this. Her hands felt warm in his. She looked into his eyes and they were swimming with a million emotions, as if he couldn't decide what to feel.

Hermione screwed up her courage and leaned in to kiss him, to prove that the past was in the past. At the last second Ron dodged out of the way causing Hermione to tip forward off balance. Ron caught her and held her back at a safe distance. He tried to ignore the hurt look on her face.

"Hermione, please. We can't do this now. Not with everything that's happened, not with everyone still in danger." What he didn't say was that he wanted that kiss more than anything in the world, well except Fred back.

Hermione was angry and hurt and didn't even bother to argue. She wrenched out of his grasp and flopped onto the bed and rolled away from him. Ron laid down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder, but she jerked it way.

Ron cursed himself for mucking things up again. He watched the back of her head as she pretended to sleep. Maybe he would never get this right.

Two sleepless nights after the battle, and how many before that? Ron couldn't remember the last time he slept properly, he was so tired. He imagined if he could just close his eyes he could sleep for days, but every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Fred's twisted smile as he lay dead at Ron's feet. His dying laugh seemed sickly contorted. It was enough to make Ron want to throw up, so he didn't close his eyes he just stared at the bushy mass of hair in front of him and tried to think only of Hermione. This was not a particularly helpful distraction tonight because Ron could practically see her seething.

Hermione seemed pleasant enough the next morning, but her tone and demeanor were just icy enough that Ron knew she hadn't forgotten last night. Ron also knew if he tried to say anything he would just end up putting his foot in his mouth again, so they got ready in relative silence.

By the time they went downstairs for breakfast, Percy, Bill and Fleur had already returned and were crowded around the table with Ginny, Charlie and Mr. Weasley. Everyone took turns nervously glancing out the window as if another attack would happen at any moment. There was an impressive fry up already on the table and a huge vat of porridge stirring itself on the stove.

When he saw the food Ron actually felt hungry for the first time in days and began to pile food onto his plate. Hermione got a small bowl of porridge and a mug of tea to avoid the otherwise inevitable "Hermione, dear you're much too thin, you need to eat something" speech from Mrs. Weasley.

Harry wandered downstairs looking like he'd slept about as much as Ron and Hermione had, which is to say not at all. In fact, Harry and Hermione were starting to look more and more like Weasleys each day except for the lack of shocking red hair. Everyone sitting around the table wore the same distant expression. Pale, sallow skin setting off dark bruise-like circles etched beneath sunken eyes. Everyone looked thinner than Ron remembered; cheekbones and eye sockets looked particularly pronounced. Cuts and bruises in various states of healing were visible on faces and arms. Ron sighed, all in the family he thought bitterly as he started to eat his breakfast.

Ron stopped his fork halfway to his mouth, turning positively green. He heaved slightly trying his damnedest not to be sick at the breakfast table. Lucky for him he hadn't eaten in two days so there was nothing in his stomach. He let his fork clatter to his plate and pushed it away untouched.

Hermione looked over at Ron to see why he wasn't eating. She saw him staring fixedly at today's copy of the Daily Prophet. The headline Saviors of the Wizarding World was printed boldly at the top of the page. Underneath was a picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the great hall immediately after the battle. All three of them were covered in grime and mud. Hermione was standing in the middle holding each of their hands. Their eyes were fixated on the ground rather than looking at the camera. All of a sudden Hermione realized why Ron looked so sick; cut out of the picture at their feet lay the dead body of Fred Weasley.

Ron silently pulled out his wand and muttered, "Incendio" pointing his wand at the newspaper. No one moved to put it out. They all just watched in silence as the paper was reduced to ash. The fire petered out when the wooden table failed to catch. There would be no damage to the table, Ron knew. There was a scorch proof spell on it so that hot pots and pans could be set on it without fussing around for pot holders.

Everyone was pulled out of their shocked silence by the arrival of Errol who collapsed in front of Mr. Weasley. "Ah, it must be Kingsley returning my letter about last night," he said as he unrolled the parchment. He read it carefully, "Kingsley wants to meet with me today just after breakfast, Harry you too. He says he needs to discuss your whereabouts this past year and your involvement in the downfall of You-Know-Who."

Harry nodded solemnly and looked down at his untouched breakfast.

Then another owl flew through the open window, it dropped a thick parchment envelope onto the table. It was addressed to The Weasley Family, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Bill picked it up and ripped it open. "An invitation to Remus and Tonks' funeral," he said grimly as he threw it onto the table.

Everyone at the table managed to somehow look more depressed. Over the course of the next hour, invitations from all fifty funerals were dropped onto the table. Most of them were just for Ron, Hermione and Harry, but some were addressed to the whole Weasley family as well. Apparently everyone wanted the 'Saviors of the Wizarding world' at their loved ones funerals, Ron thought bitterly.

In the end they decided to only to attend Colin Creevey's, and Tonks and Lupin's funerals. "I'll send replies to all of these today," Hermione said gathering the thick stack of invitations please that there was finally something she could help with.

"Well Harry, we'd best be off We don't want to leave Kingsley waiting" Arthur announced standing. Bill, Charlie, Fleur and Percy all announced they were going in to the Ministry to help out.

Ron sat there torn between going to help and staying close to Hermione. He couldn't leave her alone, especially after what happened last night. What if whoever set their field on fire came back. On the other hand, he couldn't just stay here though he'd look like a lazy bum who was too worthless the help the grown ups.

His father sensed Ron's internal debate, "Ron can you hold down the fort here, make sure your mother is ok? I feel really horrid leaving her alone today of all days."

"Yeah, 'course," Ron replied, pretending to sulk a little but secretly he was quite pleased. Then he immediately felt guilty. Where was his mum? She had obviously made breakfast but he hadn't seen her at all this morning. He was such a rotten son he thought miserably.

When everyone else had gone, Hermione, Ron and Ginny quickly cleared the breakfast things. Hermione sat back down with the invites, a stack of empty notecards and a self inking quill. As she begins writing out condolences in her neat loopy handwriting, Ginny sat down next to her and began playing absentmindedly with the salt shaker. Ron joins the other two, he's reminded briefly of being at school where Hermione's working and everyone else is sitting around.

After a few minutes of silence Hermione looks up and asks Ginny, "How'd things go with Harry last night?"

Ginny groaned with frustration. "He said it was still too dangerous, and he can't focus on a relationship right now, and he doesn't want me to get hurt. Same old, same old," she said with a small laugh.

"Well, you know Harry, too noble and too stubborn to realize he has a great thing right in front of him," Ron said wrapping an arm around Ginny's shoulder. Silently cursing Harry for hurting his baby sister yet again. At this point he almost preferred them snogging...almost.

"Talk about the cauldron calling the kettle black," Hermione said gathering her things and retreating upstairs in a huff.

Ron stared after her, his mouth agape in shock.

"Well she's right you know." Ginny said with a shrug.

Ron groaned and let his head fall onto the table.

"Why don't you just ask her out then? You obviously like her," Ginny asked.

"No, I don't. I more than like her. I don't want her to be my girlfriend, I want her to be...well I don't know, more!" Ron said with frustration. "And I can't tell her all of this right now when everything is such a mess. She deserves flowers and chocolate and I dunno jewelry. And I can't give her any of that." "Ron, she doesn't want that stuff. She wants you." Sometimes Ginny was wise beyond her years.

All Ron could do was groan again.

Ginny got up, "Listen, I'd tell you to hurry up because she's not going to wait forever, but she would. I just don't want you two to finally start shagging when you're eighty because you were too stubborn to do anything. Anyway, I'm gonna go find mum and you need to get your shit together big brother."

Ginny headed upstairs. Ron was alone and miserable. He should be grieving for his brother or helping is mother, but all he could think about was Hermione. The worst part was Ginny was right, Hermione was so damn stubborn she probably would wait for him forever, not that he deserved it.

AN: I hope you guys are liking the story so far. I know it's been pretty depressing, but I've been trying to throw in some cute/funny moments. Anyway I don't plan on the whole story being this much of a downer. As always, please review.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry this chapter took so long to post, but you know how life is. Anyway thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. Especially to rhmac12 who managed to review all 3 chapters in the span of about a half an hour! Anyway I hope you like this chapter. **

Hermione hadn't spoken to Ron the rest of the day and Ron had spent the rest of the day trying to figure out if she was mad or just embarrassed. It was hard to tell with Hermione because the two very frequently merged together. There was also the distinct possibility that Hermione hadn't been speaking to Ron simply because no one was speaking. The Burrow was silent. Ron couldn't remember his home ever being quiet before.

The others hadn't gotten back from the ministry until dinner time. Then afterwards everyone sat in the living brooding over Fred's funeral the next morning.

Despite her silence, when she announced she was going to bed, Hermione lingered for a moment at the bottom of the stairs. She threw a pointed look at Ron over her shoulder. Ron scrambled to follow her upstairs, ignoring Harry's raised eyebrows and Ginny's poorly suppressed giggles. Ron was beyond caring what they thought, he was just pleased he would get to spend the night with his arms wrapped around Hermione despite sticking his foot in it this morning.

They spent another sleepless night tossing and turning in silence. Ron wished he knew what to tell Hermione; he wished he could explain everything. Hermione wished the apology for how she acted hadn't died on her tongue. After everything they'd been through together they both just wanted to be honest and say what they were feeling. Unfortunately, that was just the problem, for seven years whenever either of them had been remotely honest about their feelings, the other would find the cruelest way to cut them down. They both knew just how to twist the knife.

Now they lied in bed together afraid to say anything to the other because neither could take that kind of pain piled on top of everything else that was going on. So, they remained silent.

The funeral was first thing in the morning and would be attended by family and close family only. Unlike Bill and Fleur's wedding nearly a year ago, this was not an event the Weasleys wanted to share. Everyone was up early looking, if possible, more ghastly than the night before.

Mrs. Weasley was already dressed in lacy, black robes. The table was set for breakfast but no one ate anything and for the first time ever Mrs. Weasley didn't push it. The usually boisterous woman looked as if he had been completely deflated. Ron hardly recognized her.

Ron retreated back upstairs to put on his dress robes, thankful that the new ones he got for Bill and Fleur's wedding were black.

When he returned downstairs Harry was standing in the kitchen wearing his dress robes and his mum was fussing around him. They were the dark green ones his mother had picked during their fourth year, but since Harry had grown a bit since then his mum appeared to be trying to extend the hem around the bottom and sleeves a bit.

Harry kept apologizing, "Sorry Mrs. Weasley, I haven't really had time to get new ones, and I know they're not black, but dark green is ok right?"

"Harry dear don't fuss, this is absolutely fine. I've gotten quite good at mending and altering clothing over the years. Six boys and a tight budget, heaven knows I needed to. There, that should do it," said Mrs. Weasley with false cheer, stepping away to admire her handiwork.

Just then, Hermione came down the stairs in a lovely black dress. It had a high neckline and cinched in at the waist before flaring out. Her hair had been tamed into smooth curls, no doubt with about a bottle of hair potion. Usually Ron would have thought she looked beautiful but he was too preoccupied with how thin she looked. Her shoulders were like sharp edges and her knees and elbows jutted out awkwardly. Ron became painfully aware of the damage a year of malnourishment had done. He felt the now all too familiar pang of guilt, as he recalled all the days he complained about not having enough to eat.

A small tent was set up in the back yard near the orchard, it was much smaller than they one that had stood in its place a year before. Hermione couldn't help comparing the two events. Slowly friends began arriving: Alicia, Katie, Lee, Oliver and Angelina. Each offering condolences to the Weasley's before taking their seats.

The simple wooden coffin was closed with a wreath of wild flowers on top. It was magically suspended over a large, gaping hole. Next to the coffin a large picture of Fred and George was displayed. Mr. Weasley admitted that they didn't have any photographs of Fred alone. This seemed fitting though, seeing as though it were like George had died too. Hardly anyone had seen him since returning to the burrow. He stayed holed up in his room refusing food and company. When they did catch a glimpse of him, he looked and moved as if he were a ghost. Ron had found himself wondering if he tried to hug his brother if his arms would pass right through.

Everyone was seated and fidgeting, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Rather, waiting for Charlie to return with George in tow. Finally, the crowd saw the pair walking across the lawn. Charlie had his arm around George guiding him in the direction of the tent. George looked like he was a million miles away. His hair was greasy as though he hadn't bathed for a few days, and his dress robes were wrinkled and thrown on haphazardly over jeans and a dirty t shirt.

Rather than sitting in the front where his mum and dad were saving him a seat, George wrenched out of Charlie's grasp and plopped down in the back row next to Angelina, and as far away from the casket as possible.

Once Charlie was seated, Mr. Weasley rose to say a few words.

Hermione listened as Mr. Weasley choked up while describing his fallen son. Ron's hand clenched hers, she couldn't bear to look up at his face so she kept her head bowed. Ron's knuckles were white from holding her hand too tightly.

Despite going to church with her family every Sunday growing up, Hermione had never been particularly religious. She had always found it hard to believe in something with no proof. In fact, she much preferred the much more spiritual belief that those in the magical world held. They believed that everyone had magic inside of them- and more progressive witches and wizards believe that muggles also contain their own magic-and this magic is connected to a greater magical power that holds the universe together. Hermione had loved this idea since Ron had described it to her during their first year. She found it very poetic and much more believable than the Christian god she grew up with.

Despite her beliefs she found herself muttering The Lord's Prayer under her breath and feeling oddly comforted by the familiar words that she had recited mechanically at the end of so many church services growing up. She found herself silently asking whatever power was out there to take care of Fred and the rest of the Weasleys.

Tears fell freely into Hermione's lap, Ron wrapped his arm around her. Hermione looked up for the first time and noticed Ron's face looked as stoic as ever, but his eyes betrayed the pain he was really feeling.

After Mr. Weasley finished speaking, he, Bill and Charlie magically lowered the coffin into the grave and covered it with dirt revealing the simple headstone. It read in bold typeface: _Fred Fabian Weasley, 1 April 1978- 2 May 1998, Loving son, brother and friend. _

Underneath, carved into the granite with imperfect wandwork were the words _Mischief Managed. _Ron recognized George's handwriting and suddenly he couldn't sit here any more, the tent was too suffocating. So, he stood abruptly and stalked towards the pond.

Hermione immediately got up to follow him. She found him sitting on the dock with his legs dangling over the edge. There was about a foot of air between his feel and the water because the pond was still half empty from Hermione extinguishing the fire on the lawn. Hermione sat down silently next to him.

Ron looked up at her, his blue eyes shining. Then suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her and began sobbing into her shoulder. For a moment, Hermione sat unmoving, stunned. In all the years she had known Ron, she could never remember him crying. Not after losing a quidditch match, nor at Dumbledore's funeral, and not after the battle. Ron was one to bottle up his sadness and fear, and hide it away from the rest of the world. Hermione had come to learn that Ron didn't have the emotional range of a teaspoon as she had once accused, he simply chose to keep them to himself. Hermione felt incredibly lucky that after everything they'd been through together, Ron was finally letting her in.

Remembering herself, Hermione hugged Ron back, stroking his hair whispering everything would be alright. Their row from the previous day forgotten.

They sat like that for a very long time, the sun had risen to its peak and began its decent down again before Ron's sobs tapered off.

He looked up at Hermione and whispered, "Everything isn't going to be ok Hermione."

"It won't be the same, but it will be ok. In time." Hermione replied, although she wasn't sure if she believed her own affirmation.

"Its not fair," Ron murmured, "Its not fair that I get to sit here with you, that I could kiss you and Fred will never get to kiss another girl."

Hermione's heart leapt at the mention of Ron kissing her.

"I can get married and have kids and grow old, and Fred will never get any of that," Ron continued, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks again.

Hermione looked into his eyes and fought back her own tears, "You're right, its not fair. But nothing can bring Fred back, all we can do is make sure we live the best lives possible for him, for all of them."

Hermione began to lose the battle against her tears, "We need to love harder and achieve more and most importantly we need to laugh harder because we are so lucky."

Ron got a mischievous look in his eyes as he raised his wand and shot fireworks into the air. He gave a watery laugh and Hermione raised her wand and retaliated. Each trying to out do the other in color, shape and noise until they were both laughing so hard they were crying, or perhaps it was the other way around.

After a few moments they noticed other fireworks joining theirs, so many that it was certain every Weasly had contributed something. Some were so magnificent that they could only be coming from George himself.

Ron let his wand fall and turned towards Hermione suddenly serious, "Hey Hermione, just so you know since Fred won't get to kiss anymore girls, I'm just going to have to kiss you twice as much to make up for it."

Before Hermione could open her mouth to say anything, Ron's lips were crashing into hers. They tasted salty from tears and his cheeks were still damp, but somehow it seemed perfect.

Hermione pulled back for a second and said with a coy smile, "Somehow, I think I'm ok with that," before kissing him back with vigor.

When they finally pulled apart, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon as they looked out over the pond, and for the first time since the battle they both felt as if there were some hope for a normal, happy life after all.

As they held hands and watched the sunset, they knew it wouldn't be easy. In fact it would probably be they hardest thing they'd ever done, which was saying a lot, but they had each other and that was enough.

**AN: Ok, I know this chapter is pretty short compared to my others. It was going to be much longer, but I just had to end it on a hopeful note. I hope you like it, please continue to review.**


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